


Because It’s You

by OceanWaters_And_BrightWarmFires



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: And along the way realizes he’s so in love, Keith gets ill, Lance takes care of him, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:53:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21628675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OceanWaters_And_BrightWarmFires/pseuds/OceanWaters_And_BrightWarmFires
Summary: The prompt was:”I’ll take care of you.””It’s rotten work””Not to me, not if it’s you.”Or Keith gets sick and Lance takes care of him.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 131





	Because It’s You

Lance notices that Keith is acting _off_.

When Keith is sparring, where he was normally all speed and muscle and grace, he’s slow and becoming sloppy. A drone lands one-, two-, three hits, each strike throwing him to the floor, before Keith throws his bayard and shouts for the bot to disengage. He stamps by Lance, heaving his breaths and wiping at the small bit of blood and droll at the courner of his swollen lip. His dark hair is matted to his forehead from sweat. Sweat that’s strange, because it takes a lot, certainely more than a few tumbles, to work up on Keith.

Lance’s first instinct is dash after the man but figures it best to leave him alone when he’s frustrated like that. At least he’s going to give Keith time to cool off.

His own fight with the drone goes similar. He’s wiped against the deck a few times more than Keith but he doesn’t give up until he’s smacked against the head and stars erupt in his vision.

Hunk, who must have come in at the tail end, rushes over to him to help him up. His brows furrow and he cocks his head, regarding Lance with a searching gaze. ”Everything ok? You seem... out of it.” He places a hand on Lance’s shoulder.

”Yeah, just- I don’t know. Distracted, I guess. Have you seen Keith?”

Hunk’s look of concern only deepens and he hums before replying, ”Can’t say I have. You know how he is. Especially since Shiro’s out on mission right now, I doubt we’re gonna see much of him. About the only one who can get that guy to socialize is Shiro.”

”He’s probably in his room then, huh?” Lance starts walking to the front of the room and out the doors, Hunk in tow, figuring he’ll take the showers by their quarters rather than the ones connected to the training deck.

”I mean, yeah. Why do you ask?”

Lance shrugs.

Hunk doesn’t fill the silence.

Lance scoffs. ”Yeah, well, I don’t know. He just seemed like he was having a bad day is all.”

”Isn’t that everyday with him?”

”You know, I used to think that but- once you start talking to him and getting to know him? He’s not as much a hardass as you’d think. He’s just...”

”Keith,” Hunk finishes for him.

”Yeah, exactly. He’s just Keith.”

They reach the living quarters and Hunk heads down the other hall to start preparing dinner. Lance wishes him luck. It’s Pidge’s turn to help out with the meal and she’s not the best in the kitchen. Better than Shiro, but that’s not saying much. The real surprise is Keith. Lance feels like he’s at a happy medium amongst the team.

He dips into his room to get his towel and robe and heads off to the showers.

He enters the room and sees Keith, shirtless and pantless, draped over a bench, the shower behind him running and steaming out from the glass pane. Keith isn’t moving. Lance rushes to him, dropping his things along the way. He lays a hand on Keith’s back, Keith’s skin feels hot to the touch, and calls the man’s name.

Thankfully, Keith lifts his head.

Unthankfully, his eyes are foggy and unfocused as the seek out Lance. He groans and goes to speak with visible labour, ”Lance?” He breathes out a shakey breath. Slowly he turns, with the help of the bench, to face Lance. His lightly tanned skin looks gaunt and there’s worry on his forehead.

”Keith, shit, man. Are you ok? Wait, no- dumb question,” Lance corrects himself, ”Can you get up? Or, is it ok if I carry you? We need to get you to the sick bay like, hours ago.”

Keith just groans again and tries to push off from the bench. His arms tremble with the effort and Lance has to catch him when his muscles give out tokeep him from slamming his head onto the metal of the bench.

”Ok, that answers that. Alright,” Lance gently releases Keith so he can turn around. He crouches on his heels and reaches behind his back to hoist Keith on it. Keith for his part helps as much as Lance guesses he can. ”Ok, hold on tight. I know it’s hard to do right now but I don’t want to drop you. The last thing we need is for you to be dropped.” Lance watches Keith’s arms come around his shoulders and when they pull tight Lance hooks his own beneath Keith’s knees and rises to his feet. Keith’s solid but so is Lance. He bumps Keith a little to get him settled well on his back and walks them over to the sick bay. Keith’s skin is clammy where Lance can feel it.

”Hunk,” Lance calls out as they pass the kitchen, ”Call Coran to the sick bay, pronto.”

”Oh my God, what hap-,” Hunk pokes his head out from the kitchen, ”On it!” Lance doesn’t wait for confirmation that Coran is coming; he just keeps walking, Keith burning away on his back.

When they reach the bay, the lights are on and the diagnostic machines are already humming with electricity.

Coran takes one look at the pair, specifically Keith, and stows the greetings Lance could see blossoming on his face. Where Coran could be the goofiest of them all, he could also be the most serious. And serious he is as he guides Lance to one of the examination pods and helps Lance gently lower Keith into it.

”Pep up, Number Three. We’ll get to the bottom of this in one shake of the snugglehern’s tail.” He closes the pod and enters something into the touchpad on the side of it. Blue lights flash across the see-through dome covering Keith.

Lance feels like the snugglehern must be the universe’s slow creature as he watches Keith struggling with breathing.

Finally there’s a beep and top lifts up and away from Keith. Coran scrolls through findings that appear on the screen next to the pod. He strokes his moustache as he does.

”Well? Is he gonna be ok?” Lance winces. That came out harsher than he meant.

”Ah! Ok- Yes. Alright. I’ve got it,” Coran turns to him, expression softened, ”Our Number Four here has a case of the flu.”

”Oh.”

”Yes, not a worry. Now, normally we could administer some medicine to clear it up. However, we don’t quite have the right antidote for someone half human, half galra. So, while we can monitor him, and take care of any complications, I’m afraid this will just have to run its course.”

Lance looks to Keith and brushes his bangs from his forehead. ”I can look after him. No offense but I think this needs a human touch. Space is cool and all, but I think what he needs now is to feel like he’s home.” Well, maybe _Lance’s_ home is not the same as _Keith’s_ home, but Lance doesn’t want Keith to wake up to beeping machines and the sterileness of the room. Especially not while fevered.

”None take, none at all. Now do what you think is best, alright? If we need to pull Number One back, let us know.”

”Thanks Coran, I think I’ve got it though.”

Coran smiles and pats Lance on the back before leaving the room.

Keith is asleep now, so there’s no safe way to carry the man on his back. He swallows, knowing Keith would be mortified if he woke up in Lance’s arms, but it’s all Lance can do right now.

Carefully he works his arms beneath Keith and scoops him up and out of the pod bed. ”Man, Zarkon himself couldn’t take you out. But a flu does?” Lance shakes his head as he carries Keith, not to Keith’s room, but to his own, where he can more easily tend to the man.

Keith is delirious for the first few days and it puts Lance on edge. He calls Coran down every hour to check on Keith with their diagnostic tools. And every hour Coran comes down, measures things, and declares Keith as being fine.

But Lance thinks Keith is _anything_ but fine. He wakes up intermittently to babble nonsense and feel around the bed for something, something Lance has no idea of, but then sees Lance there, stares dazedly, then seems to recognize him, and falls back asleep.

Lance himself doesn’t dare attempt sleeping. _Keith could need him_. What if Keith _needed_ him and he were just _selfishly snoozing away_? No. Not on his watch.

Well.

Ok.

Mostly.

Or, kind of.

Ok, he does eventually fall asleep. But it’s only when his body forces it’s own shut down. And when he does wake, to what turns out to be many hours later, Keith is fine and the meds they gave him for the fever seemed to be working.

On the fifth day, Keith is coherent. He’s still groggy and slow and so far beneath the illness. But he’s coherent.

Lance fetches him glass after glass of water, of which he greedily sucks down.

Finally, after he seems quenched, he asks Lance something. Something that just gets far, far beneath Lance’s skin and sinks down to the bone. ”Why?” Is all he says but it’s shattering in its honesty and vulnerability and how it asks Lance the same questions that he’s asked himself.

Lance stares at Keith.

Deep purple eyes, hazy, lidded. Ebony black hair framing his face, clinging to it from sweat. Dried drool at the courner of plump, pink lips. The faintest dusting of freckles spattered like constellations across the bridge of his nose. And that voice. Sweet. Grating. That honeyed-rasp that gets in Lance’s ears and sets a fire through him all the way down to his toes.

Why?

”Don’t worry about it, Keith. Worry about getting better. Just- don’t, ok. I’ll take care of you.”

Keith tries to chuckle only he lacks the power in his lungs and throat right now and it comes out airy and whispered. His swallow is visible and audible as he clears his throat to speak again. ”That’s some rotten work.”

Lance stares at Keith.

Keith who definitely needs a bath by now. Who can’t always control his temper. Keith who gets so overwhelmed when anyone touches him. Keith who yells, seemingly not knowing he’s even doing so, because he isn’t the best at controlling his volume. Or his words. Or his social graces. Keith who’ said so much, with saying so little, the nights Lance comes to him and just needs to vent. Keith who’s always willing to give up anything, everything, when his teammates ask him to. Keith who Lance watches move so gracefully. Whose body is small and yet so powerful and strong. Keith who Lance sometimes dreams about kissing or holding or making love to.

”Yeah, maybe. Not to me though.”

”Why?”

”Because it’s you.”

Because it’s him.


End file.
